The Best of Intentions
by Thorongirl
Summary: Estel's reaction to an illconceived plan devised by Legolas catches everyone off guard. Angst and misunderstandings abound as disaster looms ahead.
1. Misunderstandings

**Disclaimer:** I belatedly realized I hadn't pointed out that I'm not Tolkien, don't look like him, and don't write like him. But I am grateful that I am allowed to toy with all the lovely characters of his brilliant imagination.

**Author's Note: **So here it is, my first fanfic and the first story I've written since high school. I have no other formal education and given the number of fantastic writers and Tolkien experts I've found on this and other sites, I confess to a profound feeling of inadequacy when it comes to writing this story. I am only now beginning to truly understand the self-deprecation that some authors present. But I do intend to do the best that I'm capable of, so we shall see what transpires. Thanks to all of you for your support.

BTW, thanks to the eagle eyes of a few of my reviewers (Alariel and Neoinean) I've made a few minor changes toward the end of the story that tidy up the plot somewhat. And yes, I am now (February 20) working on chapter two. Bear with me, though, I want it to be something you'll love to read so I'm taking my time to (hopefully) get it 'just right'.

**Chapter One:**

The waning sunlight of a near perfect day ghosted across the verdant meadow, its ebbing rays only dimly highlighting the features of the two figures that still remained. In the distance, mocking laughter could yet be heard, its devastating effect still etched on the features of the one to whom it had been directed.

"I did not mean to deceive you, Estel!" Legolas pleaded with his dark-haired friend as the young man stalked away, his handsome face ugly with fury. "Surely you can understand that I did it only to…"

"To what, oh mighty Prince of Mirkwood?" Elrond's foster son whirled around, his words emanating in a low hiss of rage, and he gestured angrily at the one he had thought to be his best friend. "To _trick_ me into believing that my archery skills had somehow bested those of the elves? To humiliate me in front of my friends?"

The intensity of Estel's reaction to the revelation that he had been 'allowed' to win the archery match shocked the Mirkwood elf and he took a step back as the silver blue eyes of his closest and dearest friend glared at him.

The slender youth's forefinger stabbed at his chest and his voice shook with indignation. "I am a man, Legolas, a _man_. Do you have any idea how I feel knowing that you had so little confidence in my ability _as a man_ that you schemed with your friends…with my friends…to_ let_ me win? A man can face up to losing. He does not need" – Estel spat the words out – "he does not need any help from the likes of you!"

Indeed, that was the crux of the problem. Though nearly twenty years of age, the self proclaimed man seemed impossibly young to those of elven kind, his life a mere wisp of wind that would all too soon be scarce remembered. It was a concept almost inconceivable to one of the Firstborn and the golden haired prince sometimes found himself questioning his judgment in befriending Estel. Of Numenorean ancestry or not, their friendship was destined to be grievously short. Legolas sighed regretfully at his own folly and reached out in a gesture of conciliation, his hand tugging at the sleeve of the finely embroidered tunic Estel wore.

"Please, Estel. Let me explain."

"_Explain?_ No, Legolas." The youth's gaze softened momentarily as he looked at his elven friend's stricken features and then hardened again as the memory of what had just happened surfaced anew. "Your interference has made me the laughingstock of every elf in Rivendell. I cannot forgive your deception so easily."

The note of finality in his voice gave Legolas pause, and the golden-haired archer nodded his head at Estel's words, for any further attempt at denying them would serve no purpose. Yet, resentment at his friend's harsh condemnation and refusal to listen welled up within him. Seething with frustration of his own and a misplaced sense of injustice, he became stubbornly oblivious to the dangers that might face Estel as he watched him disappear into the surrounding woods. '_Besides,' _he thought, as he made his way back to his spacious guest quarters_ 'no one but a fool would venture alone beyond the safety of Rivendell at night. He will be back.'_

---000---

Plunging headlong into the rapidly darkening forest, memories of the humiliation he had suffered because of Legolas' ill thought out deception driving him onward, caused Estel to become increasingly heedless of his surroundings. Thus, it was not long before he found himself far astray from the path. More than once, he found his feet entangled in the thick undergrowth and the eerily swaying branches of trees seemed eager to grab at his hair.

Still, the elven-raised youth forged on, his emotions holding sway over logic for an ominously long period of time. He was not one given to needless fear, but inevitably the very real detail that he was lost in the woods, outside the protection of his elven home -- in the darkness no less -- penetrated its way into his weary mind.

Exhausted and despondent, he sought shelter under the branches of an ancient tree. _'Sweet Eru,'_ he thought, _'I have been acting like a wronged maiden. I should have given Legolas a chance to explain.'_ But at least here, there was no one to see the tears that he had felt compelled to hold back earlier. It was not long after, that the passions of the day caught up with his tired body, and he fell into a restless sleep.

---000---

'_Estel, there is no reason to feel nervous about the archery contest. True, you have had some…issues…with archery in the past, but I think your worries will be for naught today.' The gentle voice of his longtime companion encouraged the reluctant youth as they bantered playfully back and forth about the upcoming archery event._

'_Legolas, please, mellon nin, I feel ill equipped to be in such a contest. My archery skills are woefully lacking. Why are you insisting that I take part?' Estel looked askance at the fair countenance of his friend. Truly, he was at a loss as to why lately Legolas had taken to bragging about his human friend's skill with the bow and arrow. He felt ungracious, but a sliver of suspicion as to what this was all about, was wending its way through his mind. _

'_Estel, have I not been training you for weeks now? You mustn't be so unsure of yourself! Besides, your ada has been telling us for months that there are reports of orcs and slave traders and other nefarious beings near the borders, so it is important that we all be sure our skills are at their highest level!' Legolas imperiously wagged an eyebrow at his friend. 'This contest is not just, as you so eloquently put it, a 'silly' event designed to cause you embarrassment!'_

_The conversation had taken a serious turn at this point, for truly it was important that in these dark times, they be prepared for all manner of threats and sadly, there was little humor in the everyday truth of life beyond the borders of Rivendell. The Shadow was indeed growing and the threat, an ever encroaching reality._

---000---

Legolas rose early, fully intent on making amends with the young human whom he had grown to love as a brother. A flare of self-recrimination crossed his visage as he ruminated on yesterday's disastrous events. When he had collaborated with the other elves to make it appear that Estel had won the archery contest, he had done so with the best of intentions. After a lifetime of being bested by his brothers and their friends in almost every area imaginable, Legolas had thought it to be a stroke of genius to manipulate the competition so as to boost his friend's self confidence.

And indeed, the youth had initially been jubilant at his apparent victory. It was only when Estel had inadvertently overheard another participant make a sneering comment, followed by derisive laughter from the others, as to the human's 'highly coincidental' victory that Estel's earlier suspicions had been rekindled.

Things had deteriorated quickly from that juncture and sooner than he would have thought possible, Legolas found himself being confronted by an incensed and thoroughly mortified Estel. Really, Legolas told himself, it was unforgivable on his part to have done what he had and now that his anger had evaporated, he wanted nothing more than to gain Estel's forgiveness.

Not for one moment did he imagine that the youth would be as implacable as he had been the previous evening. From the first, one of Estel's most appealing qualities had been his generous and forgiving nature. In fact, thought the archer ruefully, he was sometimes _too_ forgiving of those around him. _May that be the case now._

Somewhat hesitantly, he approached the door to his friend's room and lightly knocked, anxious for the impasse to end.

As the seconds crawled by and there was no answer, Legolas grimaced slightly.

"Estel. Open up. It's me. I came to apologize for my actions yesterday. I had no right…" There was no answer and Thranduil's youngest tried again. "Estel. Please. Stop acting like a melodramatic maiden who has just seen her first orc and open the door." Again, there was no answer.

Legolas frowned and slowly pushed open the door, his gaze taking in the immaculately clean surroundings and the untouched bed. This in itself was most unusual, for Estel was not one inclined to deliberately shun the comforts derived from a good night's sleep and certainly, had he been there at all, the room would have borne some evidence of it.

Taking one last glance around the room, Legolas quietly closed the door and set off to find Elrond and the twins, for surely he would find Estel when he found them. Still, the image of Estel stalking off angrily _away_ from Rivendell loomed in his thoughts, and as he made his way hurriedly through the corridors, a little flicker of worry suddenly and increasingly persistently, implanted itself in his mind.

What a visit _this_ was turning out to be! If that worrisome feeling meant anything (and truthfully, he was not yet convinced that Estel would ever succumb so readily to such reckless impetuosity) how would he _ever_ explain to the lord of Imladris and his sons that he had done nothing but _watch_ while Isildur's heir strode off, unarmed, beyond the borders of Rivendell. _'Indeed,' he sighed ruefully, 'may that be one conversation that never takes place.'_


	2. The Price of Patience

**Chapter 2:****The Price of Patience**

Disclaimer: Just like before, I'm not Tolkien, never claimed to be, and make no money from writing this story. Still, I remain grateful for the chance to toy with all his lovely characters.

o-o-0-0-o-o

Estel woke gradually, the soft, sweet trill of birdsong slowly lifting the veil of sleep form his still befuddled mind. He was never one much given to complaint, but he couldn't help a twinge of irritation at the stiffness of his bedding. He had not thought it possible but in truth, it seemed very convincing evidence that even elves could produce shoddy workmanship. A lazy smile of satisfaction crossed his face at the thought of his foster father's reaction when he told him about it.

_Ai!_ Throwing one arm over his eyes to shield himself from a stabbing ray of sunlight, Estel groaned. He must have forgotten to close the curtains again last night. He stretched and yawned loudly, lightly brushing off a caterpillar that was slowly meandering its way across his chest. Suddenly he sat up, clarity at last making its presence known. _Elbereth!_ How could he have let raw emotion guide him so foolishly? It was not mere idle worry that demanded prudence when venturing outside the gates of Rivendell.

Running a hand through his thoroughly bedraggled hair, Estel leaned against the tree for a moment and then began to make his way back to Imladris.

o-o-0-0-o-o

'_Truthfully,'_ thought Legolas, _'sometimes it is easier not to hope that things will go smoothly. At least then you are better prepared to accept whatever fate awaits you.'_ As he stood before the Lord of Imladris and his sons, the golden-haired elf was hard put not to flinch under Elrond's incredulous gaze.

"Legolas," the elf lord spoke guardedly, "if this is yours and Estel's idea of a joke, then I pray that both of you have children of your own someday." Despite the gravity of the discussion underway, neither Elladan nor Elrohir could suppress a fleeting smile at their father's reaction.

"Nay, Lord Elrond, much as I might wish it, it is no joke." Legolas' voice sounded small, but he was not one to shirk from owning up to an indiscretion. "I'm afraid my little scheme wounded Estel's pride quite badly."

Estel's foster father nodded slowly and he thoughtfully rubbed his chin, pondering the Mirkwood prince's words. "And you say that Estel left unarmed?" He rubbed his chin again, more firmly this time. "That is unfortunate but naught can be done for it now." The elf lord turned his back on the others for a few moments and breathed deeply. It would not do for his sons and Legolas to see just how concerned he was, for though logic told him that the young human couldn't have gone far, anxiety and bitter knowledge of loss made him believe otherwise.

Still, though Estel was inexperienced in life outside Rivendell, he was no callow youth and to chase after him as though he were but a wayward child would do his dignity little good. The elf lord took another deep breath and turning to face Legolas and the twins once again, announced his decision.

"Legolas, Elladan, Elrohir, you are to check – discreetly – to see if Estel might still be on the grounds of Imladris and if he is not, then it is no doubt as Legolas said. He has been hurt and wants time alone to think things through."

Elrond looked troubled at the thought of Estel's emotional state and spoke again. "Though my heart tells me Estel could be endangered by his little foray outside the gates, my mind tells me something else. It was nearly dark when he and Legolas parted company and in truth he could not have gone far."

Elrond now smiled. "And at this very moment, he is probably not far from here, reflecting on the ways of elves and men. Sometimes we elves are not sensitive to Estel's feelings and we coddle him unnecessarily. Today, though, let us grant him this time alone."

Having said that, Elrond sent a prayer of thanks to the _Valar_ that Estel's mother, Gilraen was away from Rivendell at the moment. He was quite positive that she would have demanded that he immediately send a search party out after her son, hurt feelings or not!

The stately elven healer tapped his fingers on the edge of the ornate dining table. "Of course, it goes without saying that if this…self reflection…should cause him to lose track of time and he not be home by mid-day meal that it would then behoove us to see that he not miss the evening meal."

o-o-0-0-o-o

Some time later Legolas met up with Elladan and Elrohir at the stables and from the worried looks on the twins' faces, the young elf quickly surmised that Estel had not been found. Legolas heaved a sigh of frustration. He simply could not understand how such a wise elven lord as Elrond was reputed to be could let his human son wander around outside Rivendell alone and unarmed! It bordered on madness!

"Legolas, _ada_ knows what he is doing." Elladan spoke in a tone of forced optimism. In truth, Legolas was not the only one who questioned their father's judgment in this matter. Why, it was nearly mid-day and there had still been no sign of their foster brother. It was all well and good to let the young man nurse his hurt feelings, but this was going too far!

Legolas snorted. "And you expect me to believe you mean that?" The slender Mirkwood archer jumped down off his horse and turned to face his friends. "In truth, Elladan, you are just as worried as I am." He stared at the eldest of Elrond's sons, daring him to deny his words but though he waited expectantly, the denial never came.

o-o-0-0-o-o

Hot, sweaty, and by now ravenously hungry, Estel had quickly regretted his impulsive storming off the previous night. 'Ah well, little point in dwelling on that.' He would soon enough be back home and make apologies to Legolas and no doubt his family too. He frowned, knowing that by now they would all be consumed with worry. But there was nothing that could be done about that either. He supposed it was inevitable that as only one of two mortals living in a realm of immortals, that they would do so.

The dark-haired youth squinted up at the late morning sun. _'Valar, it is hot!_' He guessed it was at least another hour's distance to Rivendell. Last evening's plunge into the dense wood surrounding his home had slowed his travel considerably as rediscovering the trail had been difficult. Now his mouth was parched and he longed for a cool drink. Hesitating only a moment – for in truth he did not wish to worry his family and friends any further – he decided that a quick detour to a deep stream he knew to be nearby was just what he needed.

As he trudged along, Estel found himself giving somber thought to the circumstances of his life. He knew himself to be a child of privilege, and yet there were times when he questioned his idyllic existence among the elves. _Indeed, what fates had intervened to make him so different from other men that he should have such a glorious existence? _ Any queries he had made as to the identity of his real father were always met with evasive silence and clever shifts in the conversation and not for the first time he imagined his father as some scalawag best left unacknowledged.

Approaching the bank of the woodland stream, Estel felt the weight of his thoughts lift and he was pleased that his little sojourn had left him unscathed. An occasional snap of a twig or birds taking suddenly to flight heightened his senses, but in time he ceased worrying about any danger that might be lurking about. A deer that ran across his path and the darting form of a woodland fox easily explained any untoward noises he had heard. As with most things, it seemed there was more fear than danger.

o-o-0-0-o-o

Estel raced down to the edge of the water, laughing in sheer delight. Even the most cynical observer would have smiled at the picture of youthful beauty and exuberance he presented. Now that he was close to home, had a fine freshwater supply to drink from and its cooling waters to soothe his prickly skin, he had begun to think of his argument with Legolas as something of an adventure. And while he could well imagine the worried thoughts his disappearance had caused, he couldn't quite stifle the satisfaction he derived from that notion. Aye, it was childish, he supposed, but he was not that many years from childhood! He quickly shed his tunic and plunged into the little tributary.

Just as one foot sliced through the clear cool water though, the other slipped on an unremarkable little rock that lay just beneath the surface. Thrown off balance, Estel stumbled and slipped again, this time his head slamming with a sickening crack onto a larger rock at the shore's edge. A look of shocked disbelief marred his features as he shakily reached up to gingerly touch the deep cut. A steady stream of blood flowed from the wound and he hissed at the sharp stab of pain that assailed him.

For a few long moments he lay on his back while the billowy clouds overhead seemed to careen wildly about. Blood ran down the side of his face, through the stubble of his sparse beard and into his open mouth. Nearly retching, he moaned and weakly spat out the blood. The suddenness of the mishap made him feel disoriented. Staggering to his knees, Estel precariously stood up, took three embarrassingly unsteady steps and then pitched gracelessly backwards into the lazily flowing stream. He was hazily aware that the world around him was rapidly becoming eerily dim and his last conscious thought was that he had almost made it home.

o-o-0-0-o-o

As mid-day slowly turned into mid-afternoon, the Lord of Rivendell could be seen peering intently out the window of his study, a minute twitch of his mouth signaling his increasing worry and frustration over his foster son. For all the wisdom others attributed to him, they sometimes overlooked the fact that he was not gifted with the ability to know of and ward off every foreseeable crisis. _'In this case,'_ the elven father silently lamented, _'I may have judged wrongly. Estel should have been home long before now.'_

A light step and an unusually loud and impatient sigh from Elrohir signaled that the twins and Legolas had arrived and were no longer content to patiently await Estel's return. Elrond turned in acknowledgement and nodded grimly, mirroring the concern he saw expressed on each face.

He was not surprised when all three began speaking at once.

o-o-0-0-o-o

The tall, shuffling figure tramped through the grass and cautiously made his way to the banks of the peaceful woodland stream. He looked sharply about, wary of any danger that might be lurking nearby. One could never be too careful when near Rivendell and he was not eager to meet up with any of the mysterious beings who resided there. It was rumored that a man could be bewitched just by looking at an elf.

The man grunted and laughed quietly to himself. Such strange thoughts he had sometimes! Still, it couldn't be argued that sometimes rumors had their basis in truth. He was so close now he could scarcely suppress a smile. It would do his soul good to have relief from this wretched heat. Bending slightly, he laid his pack down in the soft, lush grass at the water's bank and began to strip of his sweat-laden shirt. He whistled softly, eager to be granted respite from the scorching heat. Taking a few more steps, he made his way through the tall grass and then mouth agape, stared in apprehension at the scene before him.

_TBC_


End file.
